


Please Don’t, Sir

by Tonystarkisaslut



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Blood, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Gun Violence, Knives, M/M, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Multi, Non-Sexual Age Play, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:48:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23099599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tonystarkisaslut/pseuds/Tonystarkisaslut
Summary: I’m depressed and in the mood for torture so here’s a classic trope: Peter is stolen or some shit in order to get Tony’s money. Non-power au cos I said so.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Original Character(s), Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 10
Kudos: 156





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: rape/non-con, torture, blood, public humiliation, dead dove: do not eat.

Peter whimpers, staring directly into the camera aimed at his face. Only his face is in the shot, and a little bit of his neck. His neck shows bruises from being choked, and there’s a few hickies littering his neck too. He has a split lip that’s currently bleeding, a cut and bruised cheek, and a black eye. His nose is swollen but not broken.

Off screen, a voice calls, “Alright Peter. Let’s do your first set of lines, the one the public sees.”

Peter whimpers and nods, letting out a shaky breath. His voice is steady though. “My name is Peter Parker. I’m 19 years old. I’m in the SI building, where I work as an intern and lab assistant. I’m currently in a room with several other-“ He hisses was he’s slapped across the face. “With 15 other interns, all aged 16-22 years old.”

“Good boy. Now tell the public what we want.”

Peter lets out a shaky breath. “First, they want $50,000 million dollars from Mr. Stark. Next, they want an escape vehicle, they don’t care who from. Finally, they need immunity. A promise you won’t go after them as soon as they exit the building. A signed promise from-“ he hesitates, wincing as he’s slapped again. “From the president himself. A presidential pardon. No chance of jail time.”

“What a good boy. Alright Peter, tell them what happens if they don’t.”

Peter’s lower lip wobbles, and he takes a few seconds just to get his breathing under control. “If they don’t have what they want by the end of the day, they’ll kill one of them, the other interns. And then for every three hours they don’t have what they want, they’ll kill another one.”

“And Peter, what’s going to happen to you? If Stark doesn’t get us what we want?”

Peter closes his eyes, fighting the urge to scream. “Mr. Stark… what’s a fate worse than death?” He asks, spitting his lines.

The cameraman smirks, turning the camera off. “Good job.” He goes to film the crying interns, and Peter knows he plans to edit it before it goes out.

Then he’s yanked up by his hair, and taken to another room.

~

The camera is back on him, but this time it shows _all_ of him.

He’s completely naked. He isn’t touched anywhere from the neck down, but Peter knows that’s about to change. “Okay, start your lines Peter.”

Peter’s lower lip wobbles. “Mr. Stark… They’re gonna hurt me, if you don’t get them what you want. They’re impatient men. They’re letting the public feel like they have time and hope but they don’t. _You_ don’t.”

A man goes up to him, still in his mask. He touches Peter’s chest, roaming down.

Peter sobs, breaking character. “Please don’t, sir, I said I would do what you-“

The man back hands him, and Peter sobs in pain. “Keep saying your lines.”

Peter whimpers, shaking in fear. He lets out a shaky breath. “Starting n-now… starting now, they’re going to hurt me. Constantly. They aren’t going to stop-“ Peter grunts in pain as the man scratches his nails down Peter’s chest, making him bleed. “-so _please_ , save me. Please be fast!”

“Good.” The camera is off, and they step back. “We’re gonna set up the camera, and then your torture starts. We’ll see how long it takes for daddy to save you.”

~

Peter is a little out of it, at this point. He has no idea how many men have… or how many times… all he knows is the floor under him is a puddle of cum and blood.

“Come on slut, look at the camera. Beg daddy to save you.”

Peter looks up, whimpering a bit. “Please Mr. Stark. I’m so sorry, I’m-“ he sobs as he’s slapped. “Stuff his mouth, his crying is annoying me.”

Peter chokes around the cock, gagging in disgust.

“Look at your kid, Stark. Look at what you’re doing my not doing what we asked.” Peter sobs, his tied down wrists pulling at the restraints. “Look at this nasty hole.” Peter screams as the torn and puffy hole is slapped brutally. “He bleeds so pretty, you know?”

~

Peter whimpers as he’s thrown to the floor in front of all his friends and coworkers.

“Smile for the camera kiddies. The president isn’t handing over the pardon, so it’s time to step up our game.”

MJ whimpers, looking at Peter with wide eyes. She looks ready to cry, and Peter wishes he could comfort her.

He whimpers as he’s moved to sit up, showing off his bruised and cut chest and stomach. He groans in pain as he’s punched yet again.

“Tell them, slut. Tell them what I told you to tell them.” He holds a knife in his hands.

Peter whimpers, squirming. “You made me cum 4 times, sir,” he grits out, eyes welling with tears.

The man smirks, kneeling in front of him. “Let’s keep count, why don’t we?”

Peter looks at him in confusion before his eyes widen, and he starts shaking his head desperately. “No, please-“ he screams in pain, feeling the knife dig into his chest. It isn’t deep enough to go past the ribs, but it cuts through the skin and muscle all the way to the bone. Peter screams in pain, jerking and trying to get away.

The man repeats it until there’s 4 marks, and then he pulls back. He records his work, taking in Peter’s sobs. “Your son is running out of time, Stark.”

~

Peter whimpers, shaking his head. “No. I won’t. I won’t do this, I can’t-“

“Yes you will, or I’ll blow one of your friends’ brains out a few hours early.”

Peter sobs and shakes his head, feeling weak. “I _can’t_ sir, it hurts, everything hurts-“ he screams as the gun is pointed at Betty. “Okay! Okay, I’ll t-try, please don’t shoot!”

The man smirks and aims the gun back at Peter.

Peter sobs and reaches down, grabbing his cock in his hand. He sobs as he strokes himself, trying and failing to get hard.

“Oh, what’s the matter slut? Can’t get hard without a dick in your ass?” Someone shoves him down and shoves into him, making Peter scream in pain. It _hurts_ , everything hurts! “That’s okay. We’ll get you to number ten.”

~

Peter wails, as the word is carved into his stomach. He feels like he can’t possibly handle any more pain, any more blood being lost.

The man pulls out and starts recording. “Tell us your name,” the man says.

Peter sobs brokenly, clenching his hands into fists where they’re tied down. “M-my name is S-slut.”

The man purrs audibly, stalking closer. “Tell me what you want, slut.”

Peter sobs again, needing a minute. God fucking Dammit. Tony will _see_ this! “I w-want your cock, sir. Please give it to me, please give me your cock. I need it. Please.”

The man smirks and Peter sighs in relief as the gun slides away from Ned’s head. “Good boy, slut. Good boy for asking.

~

Carl is _dead_. He’s dead. And in three hours, Betty will die next.

Peter watches in horror as Carl’s body is thrown out the window, knowing it’s going to land at the FBI’s feet.

He’s dead, and Peter is envious of him.

~

Peter screams in pain as another cock is added to his already torn and bleeding hole.

Peter hasn’t been able to get hard again since the tenth orgasm, and he doesn’t know if he’s grateful for it or not.

“Please sir, please, no more, I can’t-“

“Would you rather I rape your friends instead?” The man asks.

Peter sobs and shakes his head violently. “I’m sorry-“

~

Peter feels broken. He can feel someone fucking into him, but he can’t _feel_ it. He’s so numb. And Betty is dead now, oh _god_. And Ned can’t stop screaming and hes half convinced Ned is next just so they can shut him up.

He stares at the wall, silent tears falling down his face. He can’t scream anymore. He can’t sob. He’s dehydrated and he hurts and he’s having blood loss and he just can’t even scream anymore.

“Come on slut, look at the camera and tell daddy what you need.”

Peter wants to answer. He does. He really does. But he can’t. Why can’t he?

The cock is taken out of Peter, and a gun is shoved up there instead. Peter doesn’t even flinch. He’s just so _numb_.

“Answer me slut, or I’ll shoot you in your ass!” He screams.

“Peter, _please_!” MJ wails.

Peter’s lower lip wobbles and he nods, looking at the camera. He can only manage to whisper, but it’ll have to do. “I need more cum, daddy. Please give me your cum. I’ll die without it.”

~

Peter passed out, around an hour after Betty died. He couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t handle the pain and the numbness and the beatings and the carvings; he can’t handle it.

~

When Peter wakes up, he’s in a hospital bed.

He sits up immediately, hissing in pain. Tony pushes his shoulder, and he lays back down. “Mr-“

“Don’t.”

“Ned and MJ and-“

“After Betty… the president signed. No one else died.”

Peter nods, leaning back into the bed. He looks up at his father figure, lower lip wobbling. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

Tony pulls the sheets down, showing the bandages. The carved word “slut” is bandaged, as is the ten tallies. He’s in a _diaper_. He sobs, turning away from his mentor. “Oh god.”

Tony pets Peter’s hair. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re okay now. I know it hurts, and I know you’re humiliated. But it’s okay. You’ll be okay. Oh god, Peter.”

Peter can’t handle the pain of hearing Mr. Stark’s voice breaks. So he passes out instead.


	2. Please Don’t, Daddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can be iron dad or starker whichever you prefer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non sexual age play

Peter spends a long time alone in his room, staring at the ceiling. Or the wall. Or the floor.

Anywhere that isn’t his body.

Because he’s got ten tallies one his chest. He’s got the word ‘slut’ carved into his stomach. He’s got ‘whore’ and ‘cum dump’ on his hips.

He still has bruises and smaller cuts all over, places where they hurt him or held him down. Those will go away, unlike the carvings.

His therapist says he’s in shock. Trauma can do that to a person, and there is no right or wrong way to recover. That however Peter chooses to start his road to normalcy—if he even has that anymore—should be encouraged and respected.

Peter doesn’t know what this is, really. His doctor calls it ‘regression’ and it’s a coping mechanism. Not an uncommon one. Peter knows it means his mind goes back to a younger age, but that’s about all he knows; and all he has the energy to learn about.

He knows he doesn’t need the diapers anymore, since his… since he’s healed down there. But he hates not having them, so he still wears them. He knows he has a hard time chewing and keeping down solid food, so Tony makes him bottles of smoothies and protein shakes. He knows he doesn’t like to talk much, he does like to suck on his thumb, and he hides under the covers most of the time.

He leaves the knowing to Tony, though.

~

Tony, for his part, takes on his new role in Peter’s life like a fucking champ.

Tony talks to Peter’s therapist more than Peter does, and he does so much research on this coping mechanism it puts his overnight-quantum-physics-course to shame.

Peter has a ‘little space’. Based on how he acts, Tony would put him at one year old, maybe getting close to two.

Then the shopping. _God_. Tony went way over board, he _knows_ he went way over board. He bought 16 baby bottles, all different colors and themes, too many adult-sized diapers to count, enough onesies to fill Peter’s entire room, baby toys and stuffed animals galore, pacifiers; everything.

Peter prefers his red iron man bottle. He likes his baby blue onesie with sea animals and his red one with hearts all over it the most. He can’t go anywhere without his stuffed puppy, whom Peter named Annie. And he loves all his fuzzy blankets, but he’s always wrapped up in his gray one that has the Death Star on it.

Peter likes to watch Paw Patrol, and if he’s really far down, Sesame Street. He likes when Tony reads to him, especially Harry Potter.

It isn’t all perfect, of course. Peter has nightmares almost every night, which leads to Tony sleeping in Peter’s bed with him. It helps a little, but he still has nightmares.

Peter can’t stand any man coming near him other than Tony. He’s gotten used to allowing men in the same room as him, as long as he’s in Tony’s lap. But he mostly only lets Natasha and Wanda near him, and Pepper when she visits.

Peter hates bath time. He’ll only accept it with a few tears instead of his usual tantrum if there’s enough bubbles to cover the markings on his chest. Tony recently tried bath toys to distract Peter, but it’s still hard for him to not cry.

Tony _hates_ diaper changes. Peter now only cries and hides his face behind his hands, but at first he screamed and kicked and begged “please don’t, daddy!” ~~Which definitely did not send Tony into a panic attack remembering _the video_ and made Natasha have to take over. Nope. ~~

Peter is _healing_ , though. He’s getting better. And sometimes, Peter can even go a few hours in his normal, big head space. He usually likes to use that time to talk to Ned and MJ, sometimes he calls May and lets her worry over him.

Some days are good days. A lot of days are bad days. But he’s getting better, and that’s all Tony could ever hope for.

~

Peter wakes up little, which is not a surprise at all. He likes waking up and still feeling all fuzzy, like everything will be okay.

He wakes Tony up, poking his cheek and giggling softly.

Tony wakes with a smile, although it’s slow. He’s always had to take his time waking up. He yawns slowly too, then focuses on Peter. “Hey baby boy. Did you sleep okay?”

Peter nods, blushing a bit. “No ni’mares,” he promises.

Tony beams brighter, leaning over and booping their noses together. “That’s amazing sweetheart! Come on, let’s start the day.”

Peter, predictively, is not happy about his diaper change. He tries to be a good boy, he really does! But when daddy’s hands touch him _there_ , he can’t help wiggling and trying to get away.

“I know angel, I’m so sorry. I know, I know. Daddy’s almost done, alright? Promise. There!” He smiles and finishes taping Peter in.

Peter sniffles unhappily but nods to his daddy, still hiding behind his hands. He refuses to look until he’s all dressed again.

Tony sighs sadly, going over to the dresser. “Do you want your sea onesie or your love one?” He asks. Peter’s therapist was very strict about offering Peter choices whenever possible, to help him feel more in control of himself.

Peter sniffles for a few minutes, but daddy doesn’t push. He never pushes, he always gives Peter all the time he needs to come to a decision. He sniffles once more before squeaking out an almost inaudible “animal!”

Tony smiles and helps get Peter dressed, hiding away the diaper and the scars. The only things visible on Peter’s body now are his hands and his face. He hands Peter his Annie, and helps him push his binkie in his mouth. “Alright kiddo, let’s go!”

Peter grabs onto Tony, letting his daddy carry him into the living room. He lets his paci fall so the necklace catches it on his chest as his daddy makes him a blanket burrito. “I wan appy sauce, daddy,” Peter says.

Tony smiles at Peter like Peter just came up with the solution to time travel, he’s so proud. Peter knows he doesn’t normally ask for things without being prompted, but he doesn’t think he deserves _that_ look. “Okay baby boy, I’ll go get you some. Do you wanna watch TV while you wait?”

Peter thinks for a moment and nods. “Pease. Wan Paw Patol.”

Tony nods and quickly turns it on. “Anything else you want from the kitchen? Some milk, or water?”

Peter chews on his sleeve paw as he thinks about it. He doesn’t know if he wants anything, but if he says no and he wants it later, daddy will have to get back up. “Wawa, pease daddy.”

Tony beams proudly and disappears into the kitchen, so Peter pulls Annie closer to his chest and plops his paci back in his mouth and cuddles more into his burrito so he can watch Paw Patrol.

He almost doesn’t notice the time pass until his daddy gets back, and he gasps in surprise when daddy sits next to him.

He lets daddy pull him into his lap, and lets the paci fall out of his mouth again so he can be fed. After his breakfast, he cuddles daddy and watches TV for a few hours while daddy works on his Starkpad.

At first, Peter felt really guilty daddy was missing work. But now, he knows it makes daddy so anxious he throws up when Peter isn’t in his sights, so he doesn’t feel bad anymore.

After cuddles and TV is lunch time, and Peter whimpers as he has to decide.

Daddy smiles, kissing his cheek. “You want a smoothie, hun?”

Peter blushes and nods. He knows what that means: icky gross green drink and chocolate protein shake. Daddy always goes on about how he needs his nutrients or whatever, but he doesn’t really like them. He wishes he could just eat chicken nuggets forever. But sometimes he can’t handle solid food…

After lunch is another diaper change—and Peter really tries to be good!!! He does!!—and then Daddy reads to him his favorite books and then it’s nap time.

Peter loves nap time. He gets to lay on top of daddy and hold Annie and he never has nightmares because daddy keeps them all away.

And then it’s bath time—which Peter cries about the entire time but daddy whispers such nice things to I’m and he feels bad about crying—and then snack time. Today is sliced carrots, because Peter said he felt like he could handle them.

Then is coloring time, and Peter loves to color because daddy doesn’t get mad if he gets outside the lines and daddy always looks so relaxed during color time.

Then it’s play time, and Peter chooses Legos today which is super fun and makes Peter squeal happily!

Then dinner time, and dinner tonight is chicken nuggets because Peter kept down his carrots! So they eat dinner and then they watch some more TV until Peter can’t stay awake anymore.

Peter lets his daddy change him into a soft tee shirt and a new diaper—which he manages to not cry about this time—and lets daddy tuck them in all comfy cozy. He’s out before daddy even turns the lights off.

~

It isn’t perfect, and it breaks Tony’s heart how much Peter is obviously hurting. But Peter is getting better, and his therapist says this is a good sign; that Peter is moving on and healing.

Tony loves taking care of his baby boy, but he would love for Peter to be happy more.


End file.
